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Friday, 27 September 2013

Filth

DOWN:

When L finishes reading his magazine it is Rat Cage Time, the acknowledged low point of our joint week.

We have already turned his bedroom upside down looking for the lost Blue Peter badge. The search was not successful but I did however find evidence of such large scale sweet smuggling and eating that I am astonished he has any teeth left at all, not to mention several rat (tame! I hope!) droppings, the remains of 800 nibbled Nerf cartridges, 7500 low value Pokemon cards, a Lego person drowned in one of my good bowls in a sea of hardened clay, 32 single dirty socks and two Mangas stuck together with an indescribably unpleasant sticky substance that I believe may be discarded strawberry bubble gum.

We also emptied the Hoover bag which is fascinatingly disgusting. So much HAIR! Still no joy. This badge loss was so inevitable it could have been written in letters fifty feet high on my forehead (no, I'm not quite sure how that would work).

It is VAT deadline time. Be still, my death-rattling throat.

I tried to take the boys out for a civilised 'it's a public holiday and we won't get a proper dinner because we're on a train' lunch, but my fish tasted of ammonia and the waitress was a hatchet faced crone (I especially liked the bit where I asked for the burger without cheese and she said "a burger is without cheese, it's not a cheeseburger" rolling her eyes, and then brought out a cheeseburger) and the children read magazines and would not talk to me.

UP:

We are going to my dad's Tetanus Manor for the weekend to pick apples. The children are touchingly excited to be used as unpaid labour by my father for yet another year. "MOVE THOSE TINY FINGERS MORE QUICKLY".

The sun is shining, possibly even in the Cotswolds. Yes, every day the sun shines in a non-seasonally appropriate way, I will mention it, because I am British and it is obligatory.

We have found an excellent, if almost certainly carcinogenic, trick whilst clearing out 89 drawers on Badge Hunt, which is fake smoke in a tube. You rub your fingers together with the sticky stuff on them, the give them a snap and a flourish and voilà, smoke!

I have run out of time and we risk missing our train, so no photos. Will compensate with bucolic apple slavery shots on Monday.

I'm really and truly loving the daily posts. They make me feel less alone in my daily trudge through minor, first-world annoyances. I had a trying day--subway delays BOTH ways. I broke a wineglass inside the dishwasher, so had to pick out the pieces and tape them together to make sure shards weren't lurking in the grinder part. My finger hurts. My back hurts. My knees hurt. A car tried to bully me in the crosswalk IN FRONT OF A COP. (He won but got a full-on double bird-flipping for his trouble.) The UN in in town, snarling up my work neighborhood and I hate everyone with a blue ID badge.

Yep, when the kids were home there was always a hunt going on for something. Thing is, the place got cleaned up pretty often because it. That is no longer the case and I still lose stuff. It's because I either don't recognize it because it's hidden by dust bunnies or I don't want to fight the spider sitting on top of it.

Hope your apple harvesting went well (did you spot an under cover Panorama film crew investingating child labour?) I am trying to send you a link to a pic of (yet) another sweet baby owl but the technology defeats me. It was a link from Ricky Gervais facebook page (no I am not so pathetic as to be "friends" with unacquainted "slebs" it was via a real friend's page).

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